Ib All Alone
by SumRandomPerson12
Summary: A short story on the "Ib All Alone" ending at the "Final Stage" in the bonus dungeon.


"The final stage..." A small girl mumbled, her index finger moving across the white sign that was plastered to a wooden stand; ignoring the echo of her voice. Looking past the sign, Ib could see a dark bed with a strange, cloud-like headrest in shades of black and white. The young child raised an eyebrow at the piece of furniture resting on the snow-white rug.  
To be honest, the black and diamond-shaped bed didn't really look very threatening to the young brunette; not after what she had experienced in past...day?  
A day? A week? A few hours?  
...To be honest, the girl didn't know how long she had been in this desolate and creepy gallery, all she knew was that she now alone- _again_.  
She had lost Garry to Mary and lost Mary due to her own actions- ones of revenge of course. Ib was surprised that she could even pull herself to take the life of something that wasn't exactly _living_ per se, seeming as though she internally cried when she "accidentally" killed the ant's painting when she had first arrived here.  
But getting back to the scene before her, the young brunette walked through the gap in-between the rope fence; scanning the dark grey room cautiously. In front of her laid a light grey vase on a wooden end table which seemed to be the same type of material used for the sign.

_'I don't need that right now.'_ She thought to herself as she glanced down at her crimson rose that still beared all of its petals- five petals to be exact. However, as Ib shifted her gaze over to the strange bed, she decided that maybe she should keep the vase of water close- if she could move the table of course.  
Taking a deep breath, the brunette child grabbed the side of the table closest to the bed and dragged it, very slowly and shakily, over to the left-hand side of the strange piece of furniture; sighing in relief once she was happy as to where the table now was.

_'What...What's that smell?'_ The girl thought, tilting her head up in order to try and further inhale the familiar smell. As Ib took another step towards the bed, so her kneecaps brushed against the sheets, the smell grew noticeably stronger and now the red-skirted girl knew this smell.  
It was the smell of her sanctuary- her home...and it drew her closer to the strange bed. Now fully lying down on the black bed, Ib felt her eyelids grow heavy and her hand that was holding her rose falling limp; feeling the red rose fall gently onto her white, long-sleeved shirt.  
And, with that, her eyes drifted close.

* * *

_"Ib..." A voice said, shaking the young girl's shoulder gently. The voice was warm and inviting._

* * *

'That voice...Mum...?' The brunette was now barely conscious, feeling heavy and limp. Inhaling deeply, Ib kept her eyes closed.

* * *

_"Happy birthday, Ib!" The voice called out again, colours staring to fill the small child's vision. As she opened her eyes, the kind smile of her mother greeted her and her eyes lighted up like sparklers._

"Hee...I'll treat you today!" The mother exclaimed happily, throwing back the white sheets of her daughter's bed and extending her hand out to her. Glancing down at the hand, Ib felt herself crack a small smile before grabbing the hand; feeling herself being guided out of her room and into another- the dining room.

"Come on, Ib, sit down!" The red-eyed woman pulled out a chair and widened her smile, closing her eyes. "We've made you a cake!"  
"Actually... we bought it, Ib." The girl's father butted in, walking over to her side and staring hungrily at the dessert. Against her will, the small brunette sat down in the chair, in front of the big cake.

"Here's a cake with your favourite; strawberries!" The mother exclaimed. "Special just for today!"  
"Congrats, Ib!" The father congratulated, placing a hand on the girl's head affectionately. "Nine already...You've grown! You used to be such a small girl..."

* * *

'My birthday...my ninth birthday...' Ib thought, contemplating her opportunity to open her eyes.  
'I...I was so happy then...'  
And so she kept her eyes shut.

* * *

_Glancing down at the barely-touched cake, the short-haired mother laughed quietly as a lopsided smile played on her red lips.  
"There's still a lot more to go, huh, Ib?"  
"Yeah, I look forward to it!" The father mused, placing another slice of the cake onto his plate. Ib looked around the room, her eyes landing on a large box in the corner of the room; terribly hidden behind the potted plant. Following her stare, the brown-haired father shook his head and sighed._

"...Hm...It looks like you found your present! Well, it is a little early...But, you know what? Let's open it now!" He exclaimed, walking over to the plant and bringing the present over to his daughter.  
"Go on, open it!"

* * *

'...A present...from...Father...' Ib's mind wandered, deliberately trying to bring her mind away from the stinging pain in her legs and fingers. The girl felt somewhat faint however she decided to forget the pain and refused to move her eyelids.

* * *

_As the brunette child opened the present, she pulled out a plush rabbit bigger than her head. Bringing the plush to her face, the girl inspected it.  
Red eyes.  
Lime green fur.  
Positioned lying down with its hind legs slightly poking up; creating the illusion of a perfectly round body.  
Both ears extended as far up as they could go.  
Those blood-red eyes...like the rest of the bunnies she was given...  
Somewhere down in her heart, Ib knew what this was however her mind protested against her dropping the toy.  
Things were starting to change, and not for the best._

"Well, Ib? There aren't many bunnies this big out there!" He announced, smiling widely- something he rarely did. The red-eyed mother glared at her husband, crossing her arm over her chest. However, past the anger in her eyes, a glint of worry was there.  
"Now, honey...Didn't I tell you that she was too old for stuffed animals?"  
"...You did?"  
"I did! Ib's room is already filled with stuffed bunnies as it is! It hardly needs any more!"  
The father at his picturesque wife with an expression saying that he wanted Ib to keep this bunny at all costs.

"W-Well, but..." The man looked over at the small brunette who was still staring at the rabbit. "L-Look! Ib loves it!"  
The oldest woman placed at hand on her forehead and sighed heavily; conceding defeat.

"Ugh...Fine..." The woman removed her hand from her head and instead started to look for something in her handbag, grabbing a small white material. "Anyway, Ib, here's my own present!" 

* * *

Ib felt like she was spacing out even more now and her hands were losing all feeling- as had her legs.  
She felt paralysed.  
A sharp pain started to form in her upper back, near her shoulders, like someone was pushing her down harshly and with no thought. As Ib laid on the black bed with her memories at a pause, the girl noticed that she couldn't hear her thoughts; like she was going deaf or something was preventing her from listening.  
She moved her eyes underneath her eyelids before succumbing to the sleep once more...

* * *

_Ib took the small square of material and examined it; noticing a fine lace around the edges and her name embroidered on the side, making her look up at her mother questionably._

"It's a handkerchief with your name on it! I had them make it at the store." Her mother beamed at her, a small laugh escaping through her lips. Behind her, Ib's father scowled; obviously disapproving of the present.

"A lace handkerchief...Isn't that a little...soon for Ib?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman. Ib's mother scoffed and waved her hand at him dismissively.

"She's fine! She's very good with new things. We don't need to buy her new ones often!" The short-haired woman smiled down at Ib with a caring expression, smiling once more. "So of course I want her to have good things early on."  
Ib's father looked down and smiled.  
"I suppose..."

* * *

Ib let out a small gasp as her heart skipped a beat and a small pain shot through her ribcage.  
It hurt to breathe.  
Moving her hand, which had now lost all feeling, she pulled the rose up to her face; feeling for the petals by brushing the flower against her face.  
One. Two.  
Two petals.  
By now, Ib was starting to panic. However, instead of waiting for her to make a decision, the darkness overtook her.

* * *

_"Oh, Ib, are you sleepy?" Her mother asked, noticing the tired behaviour of the small child. Ib's father smiled at her weakly.  
"You looked like you were having a lot of fun...you must be tired, right?"  
"Heehee, maybe so...So how about you rest, Ib?" The mother asked, pushing her husband over to the door and smiling widely._

"I promise we'll keep partying when you wake up, okay?"  
"Yes, that would be nice." The father remarked, opening the door and standing half in the room and half in the hallway. "Sleep tight, Ib..."  
Ib's mother widened her smile.  
"Yes...Goodnight, Ib..." She said before the couple walked out of the room, locking the door.  
The brunette child looked around the room, her heart starting to race. She knew that this wasn't meant to be happening, she knew that this didn't happen.  
She didn't know what to expect anymore.  
Taking a deep breath, Ib got out of the chair and started to walk over to the door only to collapse onto the floor; leaving her staring at the ceiling. Before she could pull herself up, bright red rose petals started to rain from the ceiling; dancing around in the air before slowly filling up the room.  
And, within a few minutes, the petals had buried the girl in the room and all Ib could see was the sickening red colour of her rose as she thrashed around in an attempt to climb her way out of the petals that covered the room from floor to ceiling...

* * *

Ib felt her chest tighten more, knocking some air out of her. Now struggling for air, the girl tried to open her eyes but to no avail.  
She was gasping; _dying_ for air.  
Panicking, the girl moved her left arm around in hope of finding the vase filled with water; her red rose in hand. As the brunette felt a weight being placed on her chest, Ib knew the rose was pressed against the vase, she lifted her hand up to find the top of the pottery.  
Almost.  
So close.

**_Thud._**

Hearing the small sound, Ib pulled her arm back to her face to feel for the rose. Not there.  
Though she couldn't open her eyes, she knew her flower was on the ground somewhere. Knowing this, the girl hurriedly moved her arm out to the vase again only to hear a wobble- clay moving along wood.

_**CRASH!**_  
Ib felt a frustrated scream coming up through her throat as she heard the crash, knowing the vase broke. So a scream escaped her lips; loud, blood-curdling and ear piercing.  
A scream of pain.  
The girl's entire body went limp as the room fell into an eternal silence. Nothing was moving, nothing was living.  
And all that could be seen from the entrance of the room was the bloodied body of a small brunette child on a black bed with four petals lying on the covers beside her and the rest of the rose lying with the vase's wreckage; a sharp, single shard of clay stabbing into the last petal.

_"Goodnight..."_


End file.
